


Death is Just Another Path

by blarkeontheark



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Fluff, after they're both dead and clarke's alive with bellamy, but COSTIA DOES, clarke doesn't actually appear, i just wanted to explore lexa's relationship with costia a little, interpret this however you want, just a lot of inner monologue about her, just a teeny bit, lexa's already dead folks, no she's not coming back to life, tiny bit of that too, wink wonk, y'know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-24
Updated: 2017-05-24
Packaged: 2018-11-04 06:11:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10985013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blarkeontheark/pseuds/blarkeontheark
Summary: Lexa wakes up in the afterlife to find a familiar face greeting her.Or, Lexa comes to terms with her death and what it means for Clarke and Costia alike.





	Death is Just Another Path

**Author's Note:**

> i thought for a while about how to portray costia, since we don't know anything about her. i wondered if lexa had a "type" and maybe costia was kind of firm and stubborn like clarke, but i decided i liked the idea of costia being totally different than clarke instead. so i hope she's snarky and vivacious enough for you. so enjoy the product of my procrastination.

I am not dead.

I am in a forest.

I don’t know how I got to the forest, but I’m in my fighting gear. If I squint, I can feel the familiar slippery sensation of the black paint around my eyes, creeping down my cheekbones. 

There’s something missing, too: the Flame is no longer in my head. I can no longer hear the voices of the previous Commanders.

I, myself, am no longer the Commander.

My name is Lexa kom Trikru. I was once the Commander. I won a conclave. I won three challenges. I loved a girl named Costia. I loved a girl named Clarke.

I am tall. My long hair is in braids. I still carry my swords. I hold my head high.

A sudden pain in my abdomen reminds me, sharply, that I am no longer alive.

If this is death, it is not so bad.

Briefly, I wonder if Clarke is still alive. If she is okay. I know that any of the natblidas I trained to succeed me will uphold their vow to protect her clan, but I still suspect Azgeda of hiding a Nightblood.

There are footprints in the snow. There wasn’t snow before, but it is falling now, and thickly. My hair is dusted in the white powder.

I am not cold.

Maybe they belong to Clarke. Maybe she died after all. A small part of me can’t quite bring myself to believe it—that after everything, after she held a dagger to my throat, after she risked her life to kill the boy she loved so that he wouldn’t suffer, after she fought so hard to save her people—that she would fall. 

A fire that flares so brightly will burn out so much sooner.

But somehow I cannot compare Clarke to an inferno. She is not one for rash decisions, or for overwhelmingly passionate loyalty. She is Clarke—steady and unwavering. And yet, what always surprised me most about her was how she could always change her mind.

She changed her mind about me.

The footprints are taking a twisting path through the woods. I start to wonder if maybe, just maybe, it’s not Clarke at all.

Maybe it’s not only me who is wandering the paths of this afterlife.

The footprints are endless. I have walked in a full circle.

Steeling myself, I dare to whisper the name I have not spoken since the night I yelled at Titus. Told him to never speak of her. 

“Costia?”

She is in front of me, as ethereal as she ever was, with bronze skin and a stoic air about her. A flash of humor twinkles in her eyes, ever resembling the flame of a candle.

Costia is unpredictable and erratic. Costia is not Clarke.

But I find myself frozen, facing her, this girl I have loved and lost and now regained.

“Lexa,” she crows softly. As if it is a reflex, she touches her neck before addressing me again, and I see a thin scar encircling it like a ring. “I thought I would not see you for a long time.”

I duck my head. “It was the Fleimkepa.”

Costia shakes her head, dismissing the tension in the air. “I always knew Titus was a good-for-nothing—“

“Costia!”

And we’re both laughing, and I relish the sound of her braying laughter in a way I never had before. As if it will be stolen away from me at the first opportunity.

“Ai hod yu in, Leksa,” she tells me. 

And I freeze, because I don’t know what to say.

How do I tell her about Clarke? How do I say that I fell in love again?

Has Clarke fallen in love again?

Is it that Trikru girl who gave her shelter as the name Wanheda spread? Is it Luna, who I know had sworn off love until she ran away to Floukru and met Derrick? Is it Bellamy, the dark-haired boy with the freckles, the one I always suspected she cared more about than the others of her clan?

“What is it?” Costia moves closer, cupping my cheek the way that she used to. It's something I now recall as a motherly gesture, having met Clarke’s own mother multiple times. “You fell in love again.”

It is a statement, and not a question.

“Luna?” she asks doubtfully.

I laugh breathlessly. “If you are not mad, I’ll tell you the story, although I don’t know if you’ll believe it.”

“Lexa, I’m not. I always hoped that you’d find happiness again,” Costia says gently. “Tell me about her. Please.”

I pause. Think about where to begin.

“Do you remember when we would sit outside and watch the bright star that was too slow for a shooting star and too fast to be anything we’d seen before?” 

“What of it?”

“It was a space station,” I tell her. “There were people up on that star, the whole time. And after you died, they fell to earth and landed not a day’s walk from Polis.”

“This girl…she came from the sky?”

“Her name is Clarke, and she’s the leader of Skaikru, the thirteenth clan.”

Costia’s mouth falls open slightly. I know her astonished look well—the first time I kissed her, the first time I told her I loved her.

“Clarke,” Costia repeats. “Clarke kom Skaikru.”

I nod.

“Was she there when you died?”

“Titus was trying to kill her with weapons they brought to the ground with them. Guns, Costia. Remember the stories?”

“He shot you with a gun.”

“He shot me.”

Costia is silent, taking it all in.

There are so many things I have wanted to tell her. So many apologies. I have pictured myself running into her arms countless times, crying, telling her that I’m sorry and I love her and I will make Ice Nation pay for what they’ve done.

But of course, I never did.

Costia seems to sense my line of thought. “Whatever happened to Queen Nia?”

“She challenged me,” I say flatly. “I killed her.”

“Nia challenged you? And she fought?”

“No. Her son fought. I pinned him and then speared her.” I give her a half-smile. “Someone has to die, right? They just don’t specify who.”

“You didn’t kill Roan? He’s an egotistical brat.”

“He is the king of Azgeda,” I point out.

“Unfortunate,” Costia drawls.

We walk through the snow together. We have no destination, no aim. We talk lightly—about my life, about my death. At some point, she reaches out and takes my hand. I let her. 

No matter how much I love Clarke, there has always been a part of me that never let go of Costia. And now she’s here, and I have her back.

I did lose Clarke. But I remember the words she said to me as death claimed me for its own, and she is right. We will meet again. For her sake, I hope it won't be for a long time.

And in the meantime, I'll be okay.

I'm Commander Lexa.

Death is just another path.

**Author's Note:**

> wanna hear a joke? you probably don't
> 
> what did the ice nation say to lexa?
> 
> "i bet this really…costia"


End file.
